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Rape Chronicles - File #6
by Kelly Berks (kellyberks@yahoo.com)

***

Debbie had found the perfect apartment. It was within 
walking distance of her job and was quite affordable. 
Most importantly, it seemed like a safe place for a 
single woman to live. Debbie would discover that some 
of the other tenants in the building were bad news, but 
that would be the least of her problems. (MF, nc, rp, 
v, tor)

***

The Rape of Debbie Cook

Debbie Cook wasn't bad to look at. She was always very 
stylish. She dressed well, carried herself gracefully, 
had a pretty face and beautiful long red hair. Okay, 
you look at her and think that she's one you'd really 
like to fuck. Well, I did fuck Debbie and I can tell 
you that it's not as great as you might imagine, at 
least that is, if you're basing your expectations on 
looks alone. 

First, she's one of those women who disappoints a bit 
just by undressing. Her tits are floppy, her tummy is a 
bit rotund, and her only saving grace, in a visual 
sense, are her big hips and ass, if you like big hips 
and ass, that is. You hope that she's going to have a 
nice tight, juicy cunt, but she disappoints again. It's 
not a quality box at all, and she just doesn't know how 
to use it. I do like her a lot, but I like her better 
when I'm not fucking her. 

A few years ago, Debbie rented an apartment downtown so 
she could be closer to work. It was on the groung floor 
of an old three story apartment building. Hers was in 
the front of the building, and a hallway went past her 
door to the apartment at the back. There was a stairway 
on the other side of the hall, which lead to the 
upstairs apartments. It was a nice old place with high 
ceilings, big windows and a classic, if somewhat faded, 
elegance.

The other residents of that building, at least those 
who Debbie came in contact with on a regular basis, 
were strange and annoying, to say the least. At the 
back end of the hall on her floor, was a woman who was 
obviously a prostitute, and someone who was dealing 
drugs to nasty looking characters who were invited 
through the front security doors to transact business 
in the hall, or in the woman's apartment. 

Debbie had quite a few run-ins with this woman about 
her behavior, and there was a lot of friction between 
them. Up at the top of the stairs, the apartment was 
occupied by two gay men, Lenny and James, who decided 
they didn't like Debbie the very first time they laid 
eyes on her. 

There's really no explaining situations like that - it 
just happens, and there's nothing to be done about it. 
At any rate, the friction between Debbie and these 
other building tenants was almost constant, and very 
rarely did a face-to-face meeting not wind up with the 
exchange of harsh words, at the very least.

It was late, maybe 1:30AM, on a hot and humid Friday. 
Debbie had stopped by the local pub, met some friends, 
and had a few drinks. She packed it in when the place 
started to empty out and headed home. There was no sign 
of activity as she reached the front door of her 
apartment building. The only light was the big one in 
the hall. She opened the main door and walked toward 
her apartment door. 

As she put the key in to unlock the door, she noticed 
that it was not locked and pushed right open. She 
thought that was odd, because she always tried to 
remember to lock it on her way out. The thought slipped 
away from her as she entered the dark apartment. 
Immediately something was wrong. 

She was stunned by the feeling of a hand wrapping 
around her face and mouth from behind. Her head was 
pulled back, and she heard a low voice whisper, "Scream 
and you're one dead whore." She wasn't scared, in fact, 
she was too stunned to be scared. What was this? Was 
this one of her friends playing some sort of bad joke 
on her? The reality of the situation came to her in a 
second. 

Someone had broken her lock and had waited in her 
apartment for her to come home, and she was in a whole 
shit-load of trouble. "You do like I say or I'll cut 
you till you ain't got nothin' left to cut," the voice 
whispered again. She felt the sharp edge of a knife 
pressed against her right temple and she froze.

"Now, I'm gonna back away from you and you gonna do 
what I tell you to do. You hear me, bitch?"

"Yeah, I hear you. Don't kill me. Just tell me what you 
want me to do. I'll tell you where all my money is, so 
you don't have to look for it," Debbie replied in a 
trembling whisper.

"I don't want your fuckin' money. You just do what I 
tell you and you won't get dead. I know you ain't got 
no gun here, ‘cause I had a real good look around, so 
you just keep your fuckin' mouth shut and do what I 
tell you."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." 

"Now, you start taking off your clothes. Keep your back 
to me and take off your clothes."

Debbie didn't hesitate. She was wearing a dress which 
slipped off her and dropped onto the floor as soon as 
she had undone the top few buttons. There was complete 
silence, except for a clicking noise and a 
corresponding bright flash. This guy taking pictures!

"Now bitch, you turn around."

Debbie complied. She was now looking directly at the 
intruder. He was black, had no mask or other disguise, 
and was holding one of those cheap disposable cameras, 
which he was raising to his eye for another shot. The 
camera clicked, the flash went off in Debbie's face, 
and he lowered the camera and looked directly at 
Debbie. 

She immediately noticed that there was a whole pile of 
the disposable cameras on the table, and there was also 
a coiled up yellow rope which looked like a 
clothesline. She thought that he had probably stolen 
those things on his way to her apartment. She also had 
another thought, which was more than a little 
frightening. This guy was making no attempt to disguise 
himself. Was this because he was planning to leave no 
witnesses of whatever he might be doing?

"You got a stupid fuckin' bra on. Take that fuckin' 
thing off., bitch," the man growled.

Once again, Debbie did as she was told. Her floppy tits 
fell out, and the man barked out. "Man, you got floppy 
tits like a cow."

"Yes sir, I do," Debbie heard herself reply. Had she 
really said that, she thought?

The camera flashed again. "Yeah bitch, I like that - 
you call me sir every time you talk to me, or you're 
dead. You understand? Now take of your bottoms."

Once again, Debbie complied. Now she was standing in 
front of the man completely naked except for her shoes. 
The camera clicked.

"You like to suck cocks, bitch?"

"Yes sir, that is, sometimes I like to suck them."

"You suck cocks good?"

"No sir, I'm not very good at all," Debbie replied in a 
shaky voice.

"You wanna suck my cock, bitch?"

"Well, I don't know sir. I'm not very good, and you 
probably wouldn't like it, so I probably shouldn't."

The intruder laughed and snapped another picture.

"Now, you bounce your tits some, like this," the man 
said as he mimicked a woman bouncing her tits with 
cupped hands.

Debbie did exactly as the man had done, and he snapped 
a couple more pictures.

"Now take your shoes off ; we gonna teach you sompthin 
‘bout who's the deal here and who ain't."

The man picked up a section of the yellow rope and 
walked around behind Debbie's back. Grabbing her 
wrists, he began to wrap the rope around them. Debbie 
realized that this might be the last chance to fight 
her way out of this situation, but couldn't bring 
herself to do it. She now had her hands firmly tied 
behind her back and was helpless. The man then 
proceeded to cover her eyes with some sort of cloth, 
which he knotted on the back of her head. 

Now she couldn't see and couldn't use her hands. She 
realized that she was entirely at his mercy, or lack 
thereof. She stood there for what seemed like an 
eternity. What was he doing? She could hear him messing 
with another rope, but didn't even try to think about 
what he might be doing with it. She jumped as she felt 
a loop of the clothesline being placed over her head 
and down around her neck. Now she knew what the man had 
been doing; he had been tying a noose. 

He yanked the loop tight around her neck and pulled her 
across the room by the neck. She knew they were 
situated in the large opening between her one big 
"everything" room and her kitchen. She knew there was a 
stout rod stretching across the top of that opening, 
which had been intended for holding a curtain for 
dividing the rooms, and she knew what it would be used 
for now. 

She heard the man dragging a chair next to her and knew 
he was using it to reach high enough to loop the rope 
around the rod. Suddenly, she felt the rope tighten and 
begin to stretch her up towards the ceiling. She was 
compelled to stand almost completely on her toes to 
keep from strangling. He continued to pull on the rope 
and then must have been tying it off, because after 
that, it had no give at all, and she had to balance up 
on her toes to keep from hanging.

Click, click - she could hear the camera. Then there 
was silence. What was he going to do? Would her next 
feeling be that of his knife being plunged into her 
belly? She knew she couldn't balance like she was for 
very long, and that he had to cut her down soon, or she 
would hang. She heard him walk closer to her and felt 
him wrapping a length of rope around her chest, first 
above her tits, then below. Then he wrapped a loop 
around each tit and pulled it very tight - so tight as 
to cut the circulation off and make them pop out 
straight from her body."

"You ain't so floppy now, bitch." She heard him say. 
Then she heard the click, click, click of the camera 
again.

She twitched as she felt his fingers touching her 
between her legs, first along the inside of her thigh, 
then up to her pussy. She tried to bow her right leg 
open to make it easier for him to get his fingers into 
her cunt. She was in no position to do anything but 
cooperate. He gave her pussy a good going over for 
about five minutes, and she did her best to keep 
herself in a position where he could do anything he was 
trying to do, because any resistance or movement would 
cause her to lose her balance and tighten the noose 
further. At one point, he kicked her lightly on the 
ankle, causing her to have to reposition herself 
quickly to avoid falling and being hanged. 

"Hey bitch, you know your face is turning all red?" the 
man finally broke his silence.

Debbie knew it. She was seeing stars and felt her eyes 
beginning to roll back. She had the sensation that, if 
she weren't blindfolded, she would be looking up at the 
ceiling. Her head was cocked sharply to the right, as 
the noose was tightening with her slightest movement.

"Hey bitch, you know your tongue is hangin' out? Man I 
gotta get a picture of this".

Again, Debbie heard the click, click of the camera. 
Then she felt the intruder's fingers playing with her 
asshole. If he spent as much time with that as he had 
with her pussy, she was thinking, she'd be dead by the 
time he was finished. 

He forced his finger up her asshole and worked it 
around inside her. 

"You're my own personal whore now; you understand?"

Debbie tried to agree, but could only grunt. She was 
losing it fast.

"You gonna suck my dick whenever I want, right?"

Again, Debbie tried to agree, but couldn't muster much 
of a sound.

"You gonna do whatever it is I want you to do, cause 
you are my slut; you understand?"

Debbie knew she was close to losing consciousness. She 
could sense the man was walking away from her. She just 
stood there and tried to balance herself and keep from 
passing out.

Five minutes past, and she could feel her ankles 
shaking and beginning to give way. She could keep 
herself standing no longer. She had to give up and let 
go. At that instant, she felt herself falling to the 
floor. The guy had cut the rope at the last possible 
second. 

"Now, you didn't think I was going to let you die 
before you got a chance to be my ho, did you?" 

Debbie lay on the floor, now semi conscious, still with 
the noose tight around her neck. Her only sense of what 
might be happening was that sound again - click, click, 
click.

After a few minutes, Debbie felt the man cutting the 
ropes which bound her hands behind her back. He pulled 
her up to her feet and walked her a few feet to a 
stuffed chair in the corner.

"Now I want you to pose for some more pictures. Here, 
you lean over on this here chair, and bend over on it, 
and you pull your cheek open so I can get a good 
picture of your asshole."

Debbie did as she was told. It occurred to her that 
when you reach the point of holding your asshole open 
so a stranger can take pictures of it, you've pretty 
much surrendered whatever pride you might have, and 
it's all about survival from there on.

"You got a cute asshole, bitch. You know that?"

Debbie tried to say something, but the noose, while 
loosening, was still too tight around her neck.

"Okay bitch, my name is Howard. From now on, you gonna 
call me Mr. Howard or sir; you understand that?"

"Yes sir, Mr Howard," Debbie replied in the faintest 
whisper.

"Now we gonna take you over on this here nice big bed 
and fix you good."

Howard dragged Debbie over to the bed and threw her 
down on it. He pulled her blindfold off, and she looked 
down to see how her tits were protruding because of the 
rope which was wound so tight around them, and how they 
had turned a deep shade of purple from the lack of 
circulation. Howard removed the rope from around 
Debbie's tits, and they returned to their floppy normal 
position.

"Hey bitch, you look just like a floppy cow again," 
Howard said as he took a couple more pictures. "Did you 
know you look like a stupid floppy cow?" he added.

"Yes sir, I knew that," Debbie replied.

"You knew what, bitch? You tell me what you knew."

"I know I look like a stupid floppy cow, sir," Debbie 
responded.

Howard then retrieved several more pieces of rope and 
began tying her, spread-eagled, to the posts of the big 
bed. He tied her ankles to the outside of the posts at 
the bottom. Debbie had a huge antique bed, and I can 
tell you that, while I am nearly a foot taller than she 
is, I cannot reasonably get my ankles around the posts 
at the bottom of that bed, so you know that she had to 
be spread open wider than would seem humanly possible. 
Howard left the noose around Debbie's neck, but without 
the tension of her weight pulling it, it was 
continually loosening, and she was better able to 
breathe. 

"Now, you start tellin' me all about yourself," Howard 
said.

"Oh, I don't know what to say, really, I work downtown 
at..."

Howard interrupted sternly, "That's not what I mean, 
you stupid fuckin' whore. I want to know all about what 
a pig you are and how much you need me to fuck you."

"Well sir, Mr Howard," Debbie replied meekly, "I know 
I'm a pig and a cheap, dirty whore, and I need you to 
fuck me real bad."

"Yeah, I bet you need it bad. Do you wand to suck my 
dick too?"

"Yes sir, I really want to suck your dick too."

"How come you want to suck my dick?"

"Oh, because I'm the biggest slut around, and I need to 
suck your dick really bad, Mr. Howard," Debbie replied, 
but not in a convincing tone.

"You stupid fuckin' bitch," the Howard yelled as he 
straddled Debbie's waist on his knees. He slapped her 
face with his right hand, hitting her hard enough to 
turn her head sharply to her right. Then he hit her 
again with a backhand slap, and continued slapping her 
that way a dozen times or so. 

When he stopped, she could feel the blood running from 
her nose, and she turned her head to keep it from 
flowing back down her throat and choking her. Howard 
then slapped her tits very hard several times, and 
proceeded to inflict at least twenty minutes of vicious 
abuse on them, squeezing, twisting, pulling and 
slapping, while he lectured her on how he expected her 
to behave towards him in the future. She got the 
message.

Howard reached for another disposable camera and began 
snapping pictures of Debbie's tits and bloody face. 
"Now, you tell me what you are, bitch," Howard 
demanded.

"Sir, I'm a stupid whore, and I'm a slut and a pig," 
Debbie replied obediently.

"And what do you need from me?"

"I need you to fuck me like a pig, sir." 

"And, do you need me to shove my cock down your 
throat?"

"Yes sir, I really do."

Howard now seemed pleased with Debbie's tone and 
behavior. "Do you want me to do it right now?"

"Yes, I need it down my throat right now, Mr. Howard."

With that, Howard positioned himself at the top of the 
bed, and turned himself around. "Now, put your fuckin' 
head back and open your mouth."

Debbie complied immediately, and Howard pushed his cock 
into her mouth and down her throat. She was choking and 
gagging as she felt Howard's cock sliding deep into her 
throat. That went on for what seemed like an eternity, 
with Debbie gagging and trying to find a way to catch 
her breath as Howard's cock completely filled her 
throat.

"Okay bitch, now you gonna do something special for 
me."

Howard pulled out of Debbie's throat an positioned his 
asshole over her mouth, opening his ass cheeks, as he 
brought his asshole onto her mouth. Debbie felt the 
sharp tip if Howard's knife blade pushed against her 
right tit. "Now, I'm gonna cut you real bad, if you 
don't get your fuckin' tongue workin' on my asshole," 
Howard threatened.

Debbie believed his threat. She started frantically 
licking his asshole with her tongue.

"Now, stick it right up my asshole," Howard ordered, as 
he brought more of his weight down on her face.

Debbie could not breathe at all. She was being 
suffocated. All she could do was try with everything 
she had to stick her tongue up Howard's asshole. He 
pressed down harder, and she tried harder to penetrate 
his hole with her tongue, but it just wouldn't make it. 
Feeling herself passing out, she began to make noise, 
but Howard did not get off her. She was losing 
consciousness, just as she had been doing while she was 
being hanged earlier, when Howard finally raised 
himself off of her. She started gasping for air as he 
began laughing at her struggles.

Howard turned himself around and began kissing and 
licking Debbie's belly. He slowly worked his way down 
to her pussy and started on that. Debbie could hear a 
lot of slurping noise and feel his tongue working its 
way around her lips and hole.

"You ready to get fucked now, bitch?" Howard asked in a 
very calm tone.

"Yes sir, I am," Debbie replied, hoping that this might 
mean this whole thing was close to an end.

Howard positioned himself and shoved his cock inside 
Debbie's cunt. Finally, his cock was inside her. Maybe, 
this meant that the end was near. But what was the 
"end"? Would he cut her throat after he was finished 
fucking her, or would he just leave? For the moment 
though, Debbie was relieved that the guy was just 
fucking her and nothing else. She could just lie there 
and listen to his shit as he was fucking her, and that 
was how she was hoping this would end. 

He pumped away, all the while continuing his nasty talk 
and name calling. It would be over soon enough, Debbie 
thought. As she found out, it would not be all that 
soon. The guy continued pounding Debbie's cunt for a 
good fifteen minutes, and to Debbie's shock, she could 
feel a certain sensation starting to build. My God, was 
she going to cum? She couldn't do that. But the rhythm 
was so persistent, and she could feel it building up 
inside her and she couldn't resist. 

Her body was betraying her in the most horrible way. 
She tried to hold it back, but she finally erupted in a 
most involuntary explosion, which seemed to go on 
forever and overwhelm her whole body. It was easy for 
Howard to tell that Debbie was cumming. "There ya go, 
slut," he taunted her. "You done cum like a real ho." 
Howard wasn't nearly finished though. Another ten 
minutes of hard fucking later, Debbie came again, and 
again Howard gave her hell for it. Finally, Debbie 
could sense that he was ready to let go himself. He 
came with a bang, and she could feel his spunk filling 
her, and making her feel a bit more comfortable because 
of the added lubrication.

What was going to happen Next? Was he going to subject 
her to more torment, kill her, or just leave?

Howard got up and walked over towards Debbie's head. He 
picked up a cloth of some sort. Debbie guessed it was 
the same cloth he had used as a blindfold when she was 
being hanged. "Open your mouth, bitch," he ordered. 
Debbie complied, and he stuffed the cloth in her mouth. 
He then wrapped the lower part of her face with a 
length of the yellow rope to insure that she couldn't 
spit the cloth out.

Howard spent no more than five minutes collecting his 
stuff, throwing it in a bag and leaving. He said 
nothing to her as he disappeared out the door, but he 
did something which disturbed Debbie more than anything 
else he could do - he left the door half way open. "Oh 
my God," she thought. It was close to daybreak, and 
that witch of a whore, Monica, would be getting in soon 
and would have to walk right by that door to get to her 
apartment. 

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Debbie heard the big 
front door opening and the clickity clack of her spike 
heels coming down the hallway. She heard her pass the 
partially open door and stop. Then Debbie saw a hand on 
the door and heard Monica's voice. 

"Anybody home?" Monica asked as she peered in around 
the door.

She immediately saw Debbie and said, "Geez, what are 
you doing there like that?"

It was the stupidest thing Debbie had ever heard anyone 
say. Couldn't Monica see that she was tied up and 
bloody, and needed help?

Debbie was more aware than ever of how wide apart her 
legs were spread and how open her pussy must have been. 
She could feel the spunk oozing out. Monica walked 
slowly to the foot of the bed looking directly at 
Debbie's crotch.

"Is this a weird sex thing you're doing? Do you want me 
to leave you alone?"

Debbie violently shook her head back and forth and 
tried to say "no", but all that came through the gag 
was a muffled "argh" sound.

"Oh, I don't know what to do - just wait here," Monica 
said, as if there was something else that Debbie could 
do.

Debbie saw Monica hurry out the door and heard her 
walking up the steps to the second floor. My God, what 
was she doing? Debbie got her answer soon enough, as 
she heard Monica knocking on Lenny and James' door. 

A few minutes later, she heard multiple footsteps 
coming down the stairs, and Monica, Lenny and James 
came in the room. Now, all three of them were examining 
Debbie and trying to figure out what to do. Lenny said 
that he thought they'd better call the police. 

Debbie didn't want the police involved - she just 
wanted to be untied. That was not to be, as Lenny went 
running upstairs to phone the police. Upon his return, 
all three of them stood over Debbie, staring at her and 
wondering among themselves what was going on. 

All three slowly seemed to gravitate to the area at the 
foot of the bed, where they could get an unobstructed 
view of Debbie's dripping wet, wide open cunt. They 
stood there for what seemed like forever, occasionally 
glancing at Debbie's crotch and talking to each other, 
often in a whisper. Then the police showed up.

Debbie was expecting to be immediately untied. That's 
apparently not how it works, however. You see, in order 
to collect the ropes as evidence, the knots must be 
left intact, and the rope itself must be cut. It would 
be a few minutes more till someone showed up with the 
proper knife to cut the rope.

Finally, Debbie was free. She had been spread-eagled so 
wide for so long, she could hardly use her legs. They 
took her away, wrapped in plastic, so all of the 
forensic evidence her body contained could be preserved 
and protected for lab testing.

She did not want to be tested; she did not want to file 
a complaint; she just wanted the whole thing put in her 
past and forgotten. When they asked her for a 
description of her attacker, she told them he was 
wearing a mask, and that she couldn't possibly identify 
him. She told them nothing about Howard taking pictures 
of everything, or anything about what she was forced to 
say and do. She wanted this whole episode to end; not 
to be replayed in further testimony or extended 
investigation. 

When she got back to her apartment, she found that, 
while the intruder had done little to disturb the 
place, the police crime people had torn it apart. It's 
not like the guy stole anything, so there were no theft 
reports to be made or investigated. In fact, she had 
told them so little about him, they didn't really know 
what they were looking for. They didn't know he had 
taken pictures of the whole thing, so they couldn't 
possibly know that the little disposable camera on the 
night stand next to the bed did not belong to her.

What to do with that camera, Debbie thought. She threw 
it in the kitchen trash can, then she retrieved it. How 
can you keep such a thing? Then again, how can you 
throw it away.

Lenny, James and Monica would have a lot to talk about 
for a long time. Fact is, they wouldn't stop talking 
about it till Debbie moved out, and she knew it. Monica 
could have cut her loose or taken the rag out of her 
throat before she did anything else. She could have 
done that, and if she had, Debbie would have told her 
to go away and forget what she had seen, but she knew 
that Monica wanted to get all that she could from the 
situation in terms of Debbie's total humiliation and 
embarrassment. 

It took me a long time - at least two years - to get 
the whole story out of Debbie. It came in bits and 
pieces, and at my sympathetic urging. My tone was one 
of understanding and always with an appropriate sense 
of shock and dismay. 

Of course, I never let on that I was taking notes and 
that, more than a few times, had used the details of 
Debbie's account as "inspiration" for some late night 
masturbation sessions, or that I was trying to find a 
good reason why she should let me have that little 
disposable camera. I've told Debbie that anything she 
tells me about this incident stays with me, and that 
she can confide in me with complete confidence. That 
may be a bit of a lie, but I am a good listener, and I 
know she appreciates me for being that way.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 36